worn canvas, he could
be quiet enough when scheming any plot of particular neatness, which had
less emotion than impishness in it. Such an innocent amusement he was
pondering now.

Before leaving her, he asked if she would accompany him to a morning
instrumental concert at Melchester, which was to take place in the course
of that week for the benefit of some local institution.

'Melchester,' she repeated faintly, and observed him as searchingly as it
was possible to do without exposing herself to a raking fire in return.
Could he know that Christopher was living there, and was this said in
prolongation of his recent suspicion? But Lord Mountclere's face gave no
sign.

'You forget one fatal objection,' said she; 'the secrecy in which it is
imperative that the engagement between us should be kept.'

'I am not known in Melchester without my carriage; nor are you.'

'We may be known by somebody on the road.'

'Then let it be arranged in this way. I will not call here to take you
up, but will meet you at the station at Anglebury; and we can go on
together by train without notice. Surely there can be no objection to
that? It would be mere prudishness to object, since we are to become one
so shortly.' He spoke a little impatiently. It was plain that he
particularly wanted her to go to Melchester.

'I merely meant that there was a chance of discovery in our going out
together. And discovery means no marriage.' She was pale now, and sick
at heart, for it seemed that the viscount must be aware that Christopher
dwelt at that place, and was about to test her concerning him.

'Why does it mean no marriage?' said he.

'My father might, and almost certainly would, object to it. Although he
cannot control me, he might entreat me.'

'Why would he object?' said Lord Mountclere uneasily, and somewhat
haughtily.

'I don't know.'

'But you will be my wife--say again that you will.'

'I will.'

He breathed. 'He will not object--hee-hee!' he said. 'O no--I think you
will be mine now.'

'I have said so. But look to me all the same.'

'You malign yourself, dear one. But you will meet me at Anglebury, as I
wish, and go on to Melchester with me?'

'I shall be pleased to--if my sister may accompany me.'

'Ah--your sister. Yes, of course.'

They settled the time of the journey, and when the visit had been
stretched out as long as it reasonably could be with propriety, Lord
Mountclere took his leave.

When